


Bleeding Hearts and Broken Sparks

by cherrystar5996



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Death, Depression, F/M, OOC Canon, Old work, PROWL FEELS, Suicide, canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrystar5996/pseuds/cherrystar5996
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prowl gets tired of his unappreciated work and leaves behind a lover - with a warning for her not to follow him. However, his choices have consequences, and ones greater than he had ever imagined...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding Hearts and Broken Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old vent-fic... And inspired by some roleplays and songs. Prowl is WAY out of character in this, but, I was venting, so... Just bear with me. The OC, Daze, is one of my most popular OCs, and my favorite. It is rare to see her outside of ANY of my works.. I grew very attached... My apologies~! Now. Before anyone says anything, I know that she is Mary Sue. However. I just can't bring myself to change her. I love her the way she is. Sorry fellas! Makes her interesting to work with though... Especially when you find her weaknesses~ Anyways. I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy the angst.

 

* * *

 

**Inspired by:**

  * · **"Haunted" by Kelly Clarkson**
  * · **Nuetral Prowl plot by NativeCharm**
  * · **My insane brain at eleven at night**



 

* * *

 

 

Glancing up at the base's outer walls, the black and white doorwinger sighed, his doorwings low. Forcing his 'wings high again, he turned his back to the base - for the last time. He was done. Through with this war. There was too much pain... Too much hate... Too much grief. He couldn't handle it anymore...

 

Yes, he had made sure to tell Optimus Prime, and he sent Riot to tell Jazz and everyone else. He would not deal with the false sorrow. To him, it was better to just leave this life behind... Live the rest of his vorns as a nuetral.

 

With a sigh, he turned, transforming into his police alternate form, shooting forwards. The sooner he cleared the area, the better. He didn't want or need any bots following him to try to convince him otherwise.

 

 

* * *

SIMULTANEOUSLY

* * *

 

 

With a grunt, Daze glared down at her pinned clone 'twin'. If she was to kill this said clone to prove that she was actually loyal, she would. Raising her blade, she drove the curved edge into the clone's "spark". With a staticy cry, the tan clone arched away from the blade, before its spark flickered and faded - unable to sustain extensive damage due to the fact that the spark was fabricated.

 

Shifting back on her heels, Daze took a heavy vent, wincing as her personal programming went wild as it was finally unsurpressed. It had taken much of her energy and concentration to push away the programming long enough to attack her counterpart, but, for Prowl, she'd do anything.

 

Footsteps behind her caught her attention, and she turned her helm slightly, her wings climbing high up her back. "What is it?" she asked, frowning at the somber look that decorated the young enforcer behind her, Riot. Shifting uneasily, Riot rubbed the back of his helm, his visor on the floor. "...Prowl left." he replied uneasily. "...for good."

 

Jerking to her feet, she glared at Riot. "If this is a joke, this isn't funny." she snapped, her optics hiding the fear of it being true. Riot winced, jumping back slightly. "It ain't...." he replied, forcing himself to meet Daze's glare. "He said to tell you not to follow him."

 

At the last words, an icy spike of fear shot through Daze's spark. Her worst fear had come true: Prowl didn't want her... He never wanted to see her again... he didn't love her anymore... Her wings dropping considerably, Daze pushed past Riot, heading straight for one of the unused storage rooms where she could get some peace and quiet. Upon reaching her small room, Daze collapsed on the floor on her knees, her head facing the direction of the door. Her feet were tucked under her, her knees in front of her with her hands clenched in her lap and her helm bowed.

 

Despite everything.... despite everything she did to try to make it up to him... he simpl turned his back on her... gave her the final cold shoulder... He didn't even tell her himself... He sent someone... He hated her so much, he wouldn't even tell her himself... What else was there for her here...? Ridicule... Mistrust... Hatred... Seclusion... Nothing. Nothing even remained in the Decepticons... She would be labled "defective" and offlined for her morphed spark... And she couldn't follow Prowl...

 

Outside her door, two conversing bots jarred her from her thoughts. "I heard that he just _bolted_ from the base!" one bot exclaimed. The other snorted. " _I_ heard he was _smiling_ when he left! Like he was glad to leave!" ......he was smiling...? With a pained keen, Daze buried her helm in her arms, her wings stretched painfully behind her. He was _glad_ to be rid of her...

 

 

 

* * *

ONE MONTH LATER

* * *

 

 

Glancing around the rec room, Jazz frowned. No Daze... Ever since Prowl had left, Daze seemed to have disappeared. The last bot to see her was Riot -- when he had delivered the message to Daze. Turning around, he headed straight back out of the rec room. Ratchet was beginning to grow aggitated with her disappearance, and Jazz understood that aggitation translated to worry when it came to their top medic. He _had_ to find her... Last time Prowl had done something drastic, Daze had slit her wrists... He couldn't even imagine what she might have done this time.

 

Heading down a hallway, Jazz began to check every storage closet, empty room, and cubbies. It was near an hour before he finally opened the storage closet located in the very far corner of the base. As the shaft of light cut through the dark space, Jazz's spark contracted painfully at what greeted him. The once silvery seeker sat in the center of the room, her feet tucked beneath her and her helm in her arms on her lap, the two adorning wings spread painfully low. Her joints showed signs of rust, and, when he noticed her optics, he saw that they were dull... lifeless.... they had lost any spark in them...

 

Shaking off his surprise, Jazz took a step near the seeker. "....Daze....?" he asked quietly. When Daze didn't answer, Jazz took another step towards her, kneeling next to her. "Daze...?" he questioned again, touching her shoulder. Surprise, then horror, flashed across Jazz's face as he did so. Her frame was cold... and up close, he realized that the paint wasn't silver... it was a cold grey... No warmth radiated from the frame... Hesitantly moving to place his hand over her spark, Jazz bowed his helm. THere was no spark pulse... She was gone. Offline. _Dead._

 

Not knowing what else to do, Jazz took the frame into his arms, carrying it towards the medbay. At least Ratchet would be able to get a cause of death... It was the best they could do... it was too late to do anything else...

 

 

* * *

 

 

"..........there is no physical cause of death, Jazz."

'....what'ya mean? Somethin' had ta have killer 'er!"  
"I mean what I said, Jazz. There is no physical cause of death. Whatever killed her is mental."  
"....ya think she died of a brok'n spark...?"  
"Grief? Could very well be... Her spark was formed by Prowl's love, and if you take away what you live for... you are nothing. You are already dead..."  
"...She choose ta die...?"  
"....yes. Though she probably waited.... With a hope that Prowl would return."  
"............why does tha way she died sound familiar...?"  
"True-sparks."  
"....oh. Right... Two bots made to be with each otha'.... Take away one, and the other looses it's will ta live... But how is that possible with 'er? She was a clone! True-sparks are created at the same time..."  
"She was created by Prowl, so her spark would automatically evolve to match his perfectly. In truth, Prowl would have two true-sparks... Daze was one, and the other was created at the same time as Prowl was created."  
".....ra'ght...."  
"Are you done?"  
"....yeah... why....?"  
" **Then get out."**

"Yes, sir!"

 

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER

* * *

 

 

Prowl groaned as he headed back to the base. Seclusion was too much for him... Daze had changed him... He needed her company... Every day he was apart from her, he thought of her... He occupied his thoughts, his dreams... She was always there and just wouldn't go away. Stubborn as he was, he refused to acknowledge that he needed her... not until now.

 

Pausing outside the exit, he glanced at the guards. They were eyeing Prowl in surprise, and wariness. Not even bothering to acknowledge the looks, he heaved a weary sigh. "....is Daze still here....?" he asked. Both guards stiffened, but one -- a small, teal mech -- pointed inside. "....ya need ta see Ratchet 'bout that...." he replied uneasily.  
  
Prowl immediately moved to head inside, his doorwings held high. See Ratchet!? Why would he need to see Ratchet! Unless something had happened to Daze... Cold dread tearing through his spark, Prowl headed straight to the medbay, knocking as he entered.

 

Ratchet glanced up, about to snap, but stopped short as he saw Prowl. "....Prowl." he greeted, sounding surprised. Prowl did not return the greeting, his optics scanning the medbay. "Where is Daze." he nearly snapped, his optics finally wandering back to Ratchet. Ratchet paused, before motioning for Prowl to follow him. "...back here." he replied.  
  
Prowl quickly moved to follow Ratchet into a back room, frowning at a few covered frames inside. Following Ratchet's movements carefully, his doorwings began to fall as he watched Ratchet move to one of the tables, and pull back a sheet. Fear tearing through his circuits, Prowl glanced down at the frame, only for his spark to stop dead cold. On the table lay the gray frame of Daze -- her optics staring lifelessly upwards.  
  
"....n-no.... It can't be!" he exclaimed, his optics wide and his doorwings trembling. Ratchet simply looked at Prowl with sorrowed optics, ducking his helm. "I'm sorry, Prowl, but it is." he replied quietly. Prowl, forcing his voice steady, tore his optics form Daze to look at Ratchet. "What was the time and cause of death." he asked, his voice wavering. "....TIme of death was 1700 hours, July 29, this year. ...Exactly one month after you left. Cause of death: Grief, malnourishment, and lack of self-care."  
  
Prowl turned his helm back to the lifeless frame, his own frame starting to tremor. "....grief....?" he repeated weakly. Ratchet nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'll leave you alone...." he sighed softly, clapping Prowl on the shoulder, before turning and exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

 

As soon as Ratchet had gone, Prowl sunk onto a chair near the berth, collapsing his helm into his arms on the berth, his shoulders beginning to shake in silent sobs. If only he had come back sooner... If only he had listened to his spark... If only, if only...

 

 

* * *

 NEXT DAY

* * *

 

Ratchet frowned when the next morning came and Prowl still had not come out of the back room. Heading over to the door, Ratchet opened the door and stopped dead, his spark faltering at what he saw. Slumped over in a chair next to Daze's berth was Prowl's frame. Like Daze, it was gray and lifeless... Though beneath him lay a pool of energon -- caused by the wounds of Prowl's slit wrists.  
  
What caught Ratchet's attention however, was not the energon, but the position Prowl was in. His helm lay near Daze's helm, his one hand intertwined with Daze's hand. _"At least they are together now...."_ Ratchet whispered quietly as he came forwards to lay Prowl's offline form next to Daze's, covering both frames.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_".....Prowl.....?"_

_"....Daze....?"_  
"Prowl...? Is that really you....?"  
"Yes.... it's me.... I'm really here...."  
"....Why are you here....?"  
"I'm here to be with you... Forever. I'm never going to leave you again... I promise... I **promise**...."

* * *

 


End file.
